


Ultimate Fulfillment

by artistic-writer (Itrustyoutokillme)



Series: Ultimate Fulfillment [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Daddy!Killian, Daddy!Kink, F/M, One Night Stand, PWP, Quick and Dirty Sex, Smut, cream pie eating, dating app, dom!Killian, sub!emma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-08-21 17:34:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16580972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itrustyoutokillme/pseuds/artistic-writer
Summary: Emma Swan does not want romance or the complications of dating.  She just has an itch that she needs to get scratched, and soon.  When her friends David and Mary Margaret sign her up to an app called ‘Ultimate Fulfillment’ with no idea what it is actually for, Emma finds a key that seems to fit into her lock perfectly!





	Ultimate Fulfillment

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the CSSS 2017. This is also a repost, because I somehow managed to delete it. *sigh*

At one stage, Emma thought she could have throttled Mary Margaret and David for buying her a subscription to the damn app.  And then she thought she would phone the company directly and give them a piece of her mind, insisting that privacy should be their key priority and what use was their app for that if anybody could simply buy their friend a subscription using said friend’s personal information.  Dating was not Emma’s strong point, and luckily the Nolans knew her well enough not to sign her up to one of these lovey dovey, ‘real match’ websites.  That was not what she wanted.

No.  What she wanted was intrigue, mystery, and a man who could rock her world.  She didn’t want to get tied up in emotions (maybe just tied up) or spend the night, she simply wanted a man who knew what she wanted and how to show her a good time.  She wanted to be gone before he woke up, leaving him yearning for more.  Emma Swan didn’t want to brag, but she was a lady in the street and a freak in the bed, so she had wondered if Mary Margaret had realised what a subscription to _‘Ultimate Fulfillment’_ actually was.

Luckily, Emma never had to tell her.  All she had to do was sign in, fill in a few more intimate fields and upload a photograph that didn’t give her six chins and make her look like a bloated corpse.   _‘Ultimate Fulfillment’_ was supposed to be an algorithm based app that paired like minded people with certain kinks, eliminating the need and time required to attend specialist parties and conventions.  All she had to do was wait for the app to pair her with a suitable date based on similar interests.  Sexual interests.

The first date she went on was horrible.  How the app had suggested a ninety seven percent match Emma had no clue.  The guy was charming, smart enough, but he had an awful peanut like smell that made Emma think that maybe his sexual interests were a little more...food orientated than he had initially divulged.  The guy even laughed like a chimpanzee and so after letting him buy her dinner, Emma thanked him for a great evening and went straight into her app to blacklist him.

The second date she was matched to, Emma prepared herself for the worst.  At first, he wasn’t half bad.  He was handsome, rugged and Emma even noticed the way that his lips twitched into a tiny sideways smile when he was happy.  Sadly, the app neglected to mention their shared sexual interest, so Emma had to try and work it into the conversation over a rather large pizza.  Domination, as it turned out, would work better for him if Emma took charge, and he was sure she would enjoy it, despite her absolute protests on the matter.  Emma didn’t even hug this one goodnight, instead blacklisting him whilst she still sat opposite him in the restaurant.

Date three was unhinged; a crazy eyed, mad as a march hare sculptor who wanted to cover Emma in plaster, leaving a little hole by which to fuck her, and then paint her.  Oh, and he could only do it whilst she was on her period, because that would be his medium of choice.  Not Emma’s sort of kink, not what she had agreed to when he had sounded so normal over the phone, and not in a million years.  She was so glad their date was in a public place, and politely excused herself to the restroom, ducking out the back and blacklisting him on her way to her car.  So much for third time lucky.

Emma didn’t need this.  She was a busy bail bonds person with very little time to actually socialize and meet people.  It was one of the reasons she had given the app a try, the other being Mary Margaret’s insistence of her finding a nice young man to fall in love with.  With a smile Emma had told her she would give it a go, but deep down love was not on her agenda.  Emma just needed an itch scratched, but she did have a short checklist of requirements that she didn’t think would be this hard to fulfill.  
  


On a rare day off, Emma decided to just sit at home all day and do absolutely nothing.  It was her favourite activity, after the obvious, which also wasn’t totally out of the question right now.  She’d had a bath as hot as she could take it, her skin still red as she lay on her bed wrapped in just a towel, the fluffy white fibres caressing her bare thighs and breasts.  With a little hum, Emma brushed her fingertips over her covered nipples, enjoying the tingle as her skin tightened and they jumped to attention.  If she couldn’t find a man to sate her needs, she would damn well do it herself.

As soon as the familiar ache between her legs had set in and her hand wandered south to glide through the fresh, sweet dampness of her arousal, Emma was rudely interrupted by the buzz of her phone.  It was a strange, two short vibration alert that meant she had another match on ‘ Ultimate Fulfillment’ .  With a short, frustrated huff, Emma gave up on her self pleasure and reached for her phone on the nightstand beside her bed.  She swiped the app open and with a twitch of a smile her anger disappeared, the profile of the man who might just be the answer to her problems lighting up her face.

K.Jones.  36 years old.  Bookshop owner originally from England but settled in Maine now for a little over six years.  Ninety-nine percent match.  No profile picture, but that was okay, Emma wasn’t interested in watching the mantlepiece whilst someone was poking her fire.  She just needed someone, something, anything inside of her to relieve the insatiable need to be fucked, and a ninety-nine percent match meant K.Jones was more than willing to accommodate her needs.  With a grin, she sent K.Jones a message, maybe a little too boldly, asking what he was up to right that second.  In not so many words.

_“Wanna fuck? 207-219-7561”_

There was a short pause before Emma’s phone rang, the theme tune to COPS blaring through the tinny speaker out into the room.  Number unknown flashed across the display and Emma fought with her lips as she answered, lest K.Jones be one of those people who could hear a smile.

“Emma Swan,” Emma smirked into the phone, knowing who it was but also unsure whether or not it might be a work call.  She was not immune to being interrupted on her days off.

“Swan,” the voice said in a deep, sultry tone that made Emma shudder.  Not a work call.

“K.Jones,” Emma retorted, relaxing back into the pillows of her bed.

“Killian,” he almost whispered, his voice the epitome of sex with his luxuriously devilish British accent.  “Call me Killian.”

“I don’t think names are necessary,” Emma smirked, toying with the edge of her towel, watching her finger as she traced the cotton edge.

“Oh, I see,” Killian purred into the phone.  “But how will you know what to scream as you come, love?”

Emma wasn’t sure if he heard her gasp, but she did.  Normally she would have laughed at such a statement, clearly not swayed by the audacity and flirtation of such a line, but coming, no dripping from the maw of a man she had never met, never even seen, had Emma’s body reacting in a way she had never experienced before.  Her skin tightened all over her body and her nipples sprang to attention once more, eager for more that would not come while Killian Jones was at the other end of a cell phone.

“That’s very presumptuous,” Emma grinned, enjoying the way Killian Jones set her body ablaze and ignited the spark between her thighs.  If only he knew.

A small chuckle trickled down the line as Killian laughed at her words.  “And ‘wanna fuck’ wasn’t?  I’d wager you are much hornier than you let on, Miss Swan.  Maybe I can help rectify this situation.”  He knew.

“It seems you are a master of flirtation, Mr. Jones,” Emma licked her lips salaciously and was sure the mystery at the end of the line, all man shaped and full of sexual tension, could hear her.

“You should see what I can do with my hands,” Killian said smoothly and Emma felt a giggle tumble from her lips. She could practically hear him smirking.

“Maybe,” Emma shrugged.  “Maybe I just need another body part to satisfy my needs,” she whispered seductively.

Killian inhaled hard and audibly and Emma wondered what kind of reaction she was having on his body.  “Would you like to see me?  It seems I have you at a disadvantage, Miss Swan,” Killian purred and Emma could swear he was grinning again. “You have a beautiful profile photo.”

“Are you going to send me a dick pic?” Emma snorted.  She’d heard a similar line before and really hoped Killian Jones was not another eye roll worthy candidate for the blacklist.

“Would you like one?”

“I’d better not,” Emma feigned a sigh.  “I’m only wearing a towel so you know…”

“Indeed,” Killian agreed with an equally exaggerated sigh.  “I’m not sure my phone has a wide enough lens anyway.”

“Oh, he’s funny too,” Emma teased, trying desperately to ignore the way she was clutching the phone to her ear.  

“He’s honest,” Killian clarified matter of factly.  “I would not lie to you.”

The electric buzz over her entire body, infecting every skin cell and making her metaphorically weak in the knees was incredible.  It was addictive, a drug, and Emma wanted more.  For the first time in the thirty years she had been alive, Emma Swan wanted to know more about this man.  She wanted to know what he looked like naked, what he liked to eat, what he did for fun, all of the things she had vowed never to want to know about anyone who could complicate her life.  Emma Swan was lusting over a man, and she wanted the knowledge of his life.

She wanted Killian Jones.

“Ninety-nine percent,” Emma choked out, clearing her throat midway after she was silenced by his admission.

“Ninety-nine percent?” Killian asked softly.

“The app says we are a ninety-nine percent match,” Emma lowered her voice.  “Sexually.”

“Ah,” Killian signalled his realisation and Emma could hear him licking his lips.  “The app is wrong, love,” he said defiantly and Emma flushed hot, her stomach falling away from her.  Great.  Now she would never hear the end of ‘chasing away one of the good ones’ from Mary Margaret.  “I would say we are closer to one hundred,” Killian said darkly and the prickly heat on Emma’s flesh turned to desire instantly.

“How much closer can you get?” Emma purred.

“Why don’t you tell me where you live so I can come and peel you out of your towel and show you.”

Emma giggled.  Actually full on, school girl giggled.  Fuck you, Killian Jones.  No one had ever made her do that before and she liked it.  She liked the way the hair on the back of her neck stood on end and her throat constricted with dryness, the towel loosening around her body once more when her skin contracted and her toes curled themselves into the duvet cover.

“You have no profile picture and half of the fields in your profile are empty, so I have no idea in what way we are matched.  You are a mystery, Mr. Jones,” Emma rolled over, squeezing her thighs together to try and relieve the ache in her sex.

“Invite me over and I can show you what I look like and exactly how we are matched,” Killian insisted with a hint of sexual aggression that Emma had tried so hard to find but had never managed to.  Could it be that she had found a man with the ability to scratch her itch?  Emma bit her bottom lip.

“Will you be my daddy?” Emma whimpered into the phone.

Killian groan of pleasure gave Emma the answer she was looking for and she texted him her address quicker than the surge of adrenaline to her core.

There wasn’t even enough time for Emma to change her mind before Killian Jones was knocking on the door to her apartment.  Her job kept her busy, so busy in fact that she had very little time to actually spend at home, so at least the place was tidy.  Although, Emma doubted very much that Killian Jones was about to enter her life and offer her feng shui tips.  At least, she hoped he wasn’t.  Still dressed in a towel, Emma pulled her fingers through her nearly dry tussled hair and reached for the door knob.

She paused, hand on the cold silver knob.  “Who is it?” she called sweetly, licking her bottom lip as she strained to listen through the heavy wooden door.

“It’s your daddy,” came the reply in a dark tone so full of sinful luxury that Emma couldn’t pull the door open quick enough and when she did, there was nothing that she could do but stare.

Killian Jones was absolutely beautiful, gorgeous, an unbroken work of art sculpted by the very hand of God.  He stood with his hands in the pockets of some very tight black jeans that sat perfectly atop his polished black Brogue style boots.  His shirt was equally as black, ironed perfectly and militarily crisp, unbuttoned at the collar to reveal a fine thatch of inviting chest hair and a very grabbable silver chain that called out to Emma’s fingers.  He was wearing a leather jacket (of course he was) as black as space and a fine layer of stubble littered his jawline and surrounded his very kissable mouth.  Finally, and what probably had the same effect on all women, was his hair, pitch dark and flopped over his forehead, drawing Emma’s gaze to some of the bluest eyes she had ever seen that crinkled at the edges when he smirked at her frozen reaction.

“You don’t look like a bookshop owner,” Emma finally said, swallowing hard and fighting the urge to let her eyes cast one more fleeting gaze over his spectacular being.  Killian chuckled and shuffled his weight, looking at the ceiling and squaring his jaw with a grit of his teeth.  He licked his lips and let his head fall forward once more, his own hungry eyes roaming Emma’s towel clad body.

“And you do not look like anything like your profile picture,” he swooned, stepping forward and leaning on the frame of Emma’s front door.  Emma did not step back, instead inhaling the scent of him, woody and masculine, as he stepped into her space and hooked a thumb behind the buckle of his belt.

Emma gave him a quizzical look before flicking her hair over her shoulder with a toss of her head.  She watched the drop of his gaze to the bare skin of her shoulder and grinned.  “Are you disappointed?” She teased and unable to resist any further, she reached out between them and let her finger trace the cool, metal edge on his jacket zip, pulling her finger across the teeth until she reached the exposed part of his chest.

“Are you?” Killian grinned, his eyebrow jumping up on his face as he watched the glint in Emma’s eyes when she spread her fingers out over his skin, through his dark chest hair and finally raked her nails over his chest with an innocent shake of her head.

“I’m sure I can work with this,” Emma leered, closed her hand around the chain around his neck and pulled him into the apartment so fast that neither of them really had time to recover before Killian was slammed against the door and Emma’s lips were on his.

If at all possible, kissing Killian Jones felt like the most surreal experience of Emma’s life.  It was like she had been there before, her lips pressed to his and their tongues duelling in a well rehearsed dance of muscle memory that made her body ache from her head to her toes.  His lips were soft but his scruff tickled at the edges of her smile as his tongue explored her mouth, pushing forward and chasing her kiss for more when they needed to breathe and their lips parted.  His hand found the back of her head, making sure that she couldn’t escape him as his other hand snaked around her waist and pulled her body flush against his.

“Have we met before?” Emma panted between kisses, her fingers fumbling with the buckle of his jeans, the metal clattering against her hardwood floor when she pulled the leather strap free and tossed it aside.

“I would have remembered,” Killian rasped, sliding his lips from Emma’s to plant hot, wet kisses down the line of her jaw with a contented hum.  Emma pushed his jacket off his shoulders and Killian reluctantly let her go so that he could free his arms from the leather sleeves.

“It’s just…” Emma stammered, her eyes rolling back in her head and all of her coherent thought disappearing when she felt Killian Jones grind his very apparent arousal against the thin towel covering her mound.  Emma dropped his jacket behind him and clutched the back of his neck, keeping his lips to her skin where they continued to brand her body with each and every kiss he lavished down her neck.  Killian pushed against her body gently, walking them backwards further into the apartment.

“We would have both remembered,” he grinned against her skin, letting his tongue dart out to taste the skin on the top swell of her breasts as he kicked his shoes and socks off with ease.

“You’re right,” Emma agreed, pulling herself from his grasp and making him look at her, his already dishevelled hair falling even further over his fine features.  She stepped back, leaving him with a confused look, before she took even more of his breath away as she dropped her towel, feigning shyness behind a bite of her bottom lip.  “You would have remembered this, right?”

Killian surged forward silently once more, closing the gap between them and pushing his lips against hers so pleasurably hard that Emma thought he might be bruising them.  Emma reached up on her tiptoes, looping her arms around the back of his head and pressing her body harder into his.  She could feel the hard planes of his chest under his shirt and her nipples hardened when they brushed against the softness of his shirt, but even more evident was the size of Killian’s erection that strained in his jeans.

Emma’s hands went to work on the buttons of his shirt quickly, her nimble fingers making short work of them before the back of her hand brushed against the bulge in his jeans.  Killian gasped and Emma missed the taste of him instantly when he broke the kiss to give her a big, boyish grin that she mirrored back right away with a salacious lick of her lips.  “And I am sure I would have remembered this,” Emma purred, rubbing her hand over the length of him through the denim covering.

“My god woman,” Killian groaned through a clenched jaw as Emma unbuttoned his jeans and he tore his shirt from his back, both offending items thrown carelessly away from them.  “Where have you been hiding?”

“Who said I was hiding?” Emma smiled seductively, letting him pull her back into his arms and relishing the immediate burn of his skin on hers.

“I honestly live like three blocks away,” Killian nipped at her neck, hands roaming over the dip in her back, the curve of her hips and under the round swell of her buttocks where he found Emma so wet he thought he might be dreaming.  “I’ve never seen you before.”

“Then you need to pay more attention,” Emma chastised before wrapping her long fingers around the girth of him and slowly shifting the skin over his shaft with a gentle twist of her wrist.  

Killian hissed.  “Oh, I’m paying attention now,” he moaned.  “Daddy is listening.”

She was not sure how, but in the excitement of finding out that Killian Jones was not only an absolutely gorgeous specimen of a man and not at all as weird as her last matches, Emma had forgotten about the need to satisfy her desire.  When the app had asked for her sexual fantasies, Emma had immediately thought of her daddy kink.  It was the perfect way to escape her hectic, dominant lifestyle and job and have someone else take care of her in ways she could have only dream of.  She hoped.

“You’d better be good to me, Daddy,” she whimpered innocently.  “I need it.”

“Do you now?” Killian didn’t even wait for an answer before he snaked his hands down the back of Emma’s thighs and lifted her into his arms, encouraging her to wrap her legs around his waist with a delighted squeal.  “Tell Daddy where the bedroom is, there’s a good love, and we’ll see to what you need.”

As he carried her down the hall where she was pointing, Emma could feel Killian’s arousal bumping her wetness with each step urging on her own lustful desire.  She couldn’t wait to see how it felt to have him inside of her because he had been right, his camera lens probably had been inadequate for photographing the throbbing hardness that was between them.  Emma’s clit pulsed as she squeezed her thighs tighter, desperately trying to gain some sort of friction from Killian’s body.  He noticed.

“There, there, love,” he soothed, stilling her movement with a firm grip on both her hips.  Emma whined and pulled his bottom lip between her teeth, sucking away the pleasurable pain left by her bite immediately afterwards.  “You are a thirsty girl, aren’t you?” Killian smirked and Emma gave him a coy smile.

“Yes, Daddy,” she cooed, threading her fingers into his hair and pulling his face back to hers.  Killian stumbled through what he assumed was Emma’s bedroom door, his shoulder bumping into the frame and causing a shooting pain through the joint.  He ignored it with a grunt.  That could be seen to later.

When his knees bumped the edge of Emma’s bed he pulled his lips from hers and threw her down.  Emma hit the mattress with a squeal, bouncing on the duvet and quickly brushing the hair from her face.  God forbid she lose sight of the man who had, not thirty minutes ago, been a flirty voice at the end of a phone line.  He was even more worth the no profile picture gamble now that he was actually standing at the foot of her bed languidly stroking himself as he took in her reclined figure.

“See something you like, Daddy?” Emma purred, writhing a little from side to side, teasing the edge of her lips with a single finger that she used to trace the outline of her smile before darting her tongue out to taste it.  “I know I do,” she breathed, letting her eyes drop to the heaviness in his hand.

“On your knees,” Killian commanded, stroking his shaft faster.  “Daddy wants you on your knees.”

Emma poked out her tongue and rolled over slowly, making sure to wiggle her behind as she pushed it up in the air.  The scent of her arousal was intoxicating, even to herself and Emma reached between her legs to slick her juices over the curve of her labia and the bump of her hardened clit.  She toyed with herself, rocking back onto her hand with a groan.

“Now I do,” Killian growled, stepping forward and reaching for Emma, grabbing her by the hips and pulling her ass flush to his hardness.

Emma let out a gasp and rubbed up his length, teasing him with the hot, pink wetness between her legs.  Killian kneaded the globes of her ass, pinching and pulling at the flesh between his hands as he watched Emma coat his length in her nectar.

“Can I have it now?” Emma begged playfully, arching her back and letting her rock hard nipples brush the fabric of the comforter.  She needed friction.  Any kind.  Anywhere.  This was single handedly the most turned on she had ever been in her life and it was all due to a stranger she had just met but who absolutely understood her needs.  Dare she think that Killian Jones could be more than a one night stand?  The thought was quickly banished from her mind when Killian’s hand slapped her ass.

“Is this what you want?” he growled, soothing the sting in her behind with a soft palm and rubbing himself between the crease in her buttocks at the same time.  Emma could feel him oozing a little from the tip, coating her skin with his precum and she was sure it made her even wetter.

“Yes,” she hissed, clutching the duvet between her fingers in frustration.  “I want that cock inside of me.  Give it to me,” she whined, rocking back and forth to try and soothe the ache of her want.

Another sharp crack echoed into the room as Killian slapped a flat palm to her other cheek and delighted in the way it made Emma squeak out loud.  “Yes, what, love?” he growled, leaning forward and planting his lips to the stinging red handprint on her behind, chasing away her pain with wet, open mouthed kisses.

“Yes please, Daddy,” Emma wiggled in his grasp, looking over her shoulder at him through lust filled eyes.  “I want it, Daddy,” she reiterated with a seductive smirk.  “Give me Daddy’s cock.”

Killian didn’t need asking twice and eagerly lined himself up with Emma’s entrance.  She was soaked, dripping wet from his erotic torture and Emma didn’t know how long it would take before her itch was well and truly scratched, but she was sure it wouldn’t be long.  Even just the tip of him was heaven, stretching the most sensitive part of her wider and wider, the enticing burn accompanying it the icing on her sexual fantasy cake.  She gasped as he inched himself in, the stretch too much in places which he realised from only her body’s reactions and stilled to allow her to accommodate his girth.  Once he was fully encased in her heated core, he smoothed his hands over Emma’s back and followed them with more kisses to her delicate skin.

“Are you okay, love?  I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered into the silence, his words far away in Emma’s ears but the care with which they were laced washed over her like a wave.  Emma had never known any man to care about her well being during a quick fuck session and it turned her on even more, a soft moan escaping her mouth as her body fully relaxed.

“I’m good,” Emma breathed, her words barely audible above the pounding of her own heartbeat in her ears.  

“We can stop if…” Killian began but stopped when he felt her inner muscles clench around him as he shifted a little, another sign Emma’s body was fighting to take him all in without pain.

“No!” Emma laughed softly.  “Don’t you fucking go anywhere,” she sighed desperately.  She reached between her legs once more and began drawing slow circles over her hyper sensitive nub, slicking her juices from around her opening and feeling the thick vein in Killian’s erection pulsing against her walls.  “You promised to be my daddy,” she gasped, her voice higher as she wound herself up higher from her ministrations, each swipe over her clit building the release inside of her.

Killian smirked to himself, his erection growing even harder at the sight of Emma playing with herself.  “Aye, love, I did,” he soothed and then, eager to fulfill his promise, Killian withdrew from Emma agonisingly slowly and felt her shudder as he pushed back into her molten core.

“So, what are you waiting for?  Fuck me, Daddy,” Emma commanded sweetly, shooting him another lustful glare over her shoulder.  “Give me what I need,” she pouted.

Emma had never begged before.  It was a new and exciting fantasy she never even knew she would like until now.  She had lots that she did like and it suddenly occurred to her that Killian Jones, Mr. ninety-nine percent match, probably could help her fulfill a good few of them.  With each thrust Emma felt herself grow even more aroused, her juices coating Killian every time he entered her and withdrew with a grunt of satisfaction, and as her body gave out, white flashing behind her eyes and the void of rapture enveloping her, Emma could only feel one thing;  Killian Jones prolonging her orgasm with steady flicks of his tongue over her clit.

She wasn’t sure when he had orgasmed but Emma could feel he had, their combined essences leaking from her throbbing center.  Normally she would insist on leaving, getting cleaned up and vacating the situation right there, but she was too weak to move, besides the fact that they were in her bed, in her apartment.  She rested forward on her elbows, too feeble to hold herself up any longer, and like a blubbering mess she simply quivered each time Killian licked her swollen sex.  The man was a marvel, a legendary creature of mythic sexual proportions and here he was, in her room, filling her with his seed and licking it from her.  Just when Emma thought he couldn’t get any more erotic.

When he was finished, Killian gave her one final lick and swatted her on the behind once more, letting Emma finally roll over on the duvet, spent and slightly sweaty.  She peered up at him, lifting her leg and trailing her toes through the thatch of hair just above his still semi hard member which Killian caught, lifted to his lips and without breaking eye contact, kissed the inside of her ankle so tenderly Emma’s skin tingled even more.

“Maybe I should call your father,” he rasped, his throat dry from his exertions.

“You don’t know my father,” Emma chuckled.

“Tiny detail, love,” he shrugged, kissing her foot once more.

“Why would you want to anyway?” Emma frowned, trying to catch her breath.

“Just to tell him that you call me Daddy too,” Killian winked playfully and Emma covered her face with her hands as she chuckled harder.  Emma felt the bed rock a little as Killian climbed up next to her, another foreign feature of her many one night stands that she somehow didn’t mind from him.  Killian Jones was different.  He was ruggedly handsome and animalistic, a beacon of light in her otherwise mundane lifestyle of monotony and repetition.  Emma liked different.

“I want to see you again,” she admitted shyly as she turned to face him.  Killian smiled, his face impossibly more handsome when he did so, and he brushed a strand of her golden tresses from her face.

“I’d like that,” he nodded and leaned forward, cupped Emma’s face in his hand and captured her lips for a toe curling kiss.  He tasted of her juices with a slight tang of his own and Emma couldn’t stop the moan that slipped from her mouth.  “I’d like that very much,” he pressed his forehead to hers and smoothed his thumb over the apple of Emma’s cheek.

Emma smiled and decided that maybe Mary Margaret and David’s present wasn’t so bad after all.  She was Ultimately Fulfilled.


End file.
